


ov[E]r [TH]e cl[O]ud[S]

by Abalisk



Series: Ethos [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-12-23 15:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11992824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abalisk/pseuds/Abalisk
Summary: The supernatural wasn't anything new to Kurosaki Ichigo... Ghosts were normal in his life. Typical... Boring even. He'd seen enough of them to last a lifetime- Or so he thought...He could really go for a little boring right now.





	1. [D]Evi-L

_ Crumpling, a figure fell against a wall to rest, the shadows of the dimly lit corridor yawning hugely on either end, creating false phantoms that drew the paranoid eye. Legs shaking, they slid down slowly, no longer able to bear standing, their knees crunching down onto the cool concrete. _

_ The sound was loud in the stillness. _

_ Heavy panting could be heard as attempts were made to catch their breath, thick clouds of vapor issuing forth as they gasped in the cold night air. _

_ The thick scent of iron filled the crisp night, blood dripping down thin pale fingers, splashing onto the pavement in a steady trickle, a puddle of crimson forming beneath their feet. _

_ A feral call howled in the distance. _

xXx

Growing up in a suburb of the Tokyo metropolis had its own challenges. It was bland, boring, and there really wasn’t much to see unless you were a tourist. 

The population of Karakura Town consisted mostly of people who commuted and worked in the central Tokyo wards, making the place what many people call a “bed town,” or to those not familiar with its meaning, a place for the common worker to eat, sleep, and maybe even have a family. Not to say Karakura didn’t have its own industry or companies for people to work, but it did mean the majority of the masses were gone for most of the day. This, as a result, left a few problems in its wake. 

Specifically, bored kids. 

Bored kids with too much time on their hands, stirring up trouble wherever they went. Kids that ended up starting gangs and trying to push their turf onto good, well-meaning folk.

Until that is, Kurosaki Ichigo smashed their faces in.

Not to get the wrong idea, he wasn’t a hero of the people by any means. He didn’t make a habit of chasing down and beating the crap out of people who might have deserved it. He was hardily a vigilante. If he saw a problem in front of him, he’d deal with it right then and there. Better to deal with a problem in the moment rather than later.

This gave him the unfortunate honor of a reputation. A reputation that gave him a ridiculous amount of grief no matter where he went.

A challenge to be sure for any normal teen.

Kurosaki Ichigo however, would never claim that his life was by any means normal.

As a boy who had to contend with controversy regarding the brightness of his hair, a sunshine orange of all things, he was at this point used to constant scrutiny. Teachers. Passersby. Other students. Hell, pretty much  _ everyone _ was quick to judge him based on his appearance so he’d long ago decided to abandon pretenses. It was just easier that way. 

Not to say that he was a bad student or a delinquent like most people expected him to be, but why put up the facade of being a nice guy when no one would believe it anyway?

The people who really mattered were in the know on how he truly acted and what he really was like. The honest Ichigo. As it was, everyone else got the cold shoulder unless they proved something to him.

As for what that  _ something  _ was, it usually had to be situational… Could only be measured within the moment. There was a reason he could only count the amount of friends he had on one hand. Most people only got to see the mildly annoyed glare, which often made them wonder if his face was stuck like that.

Though to be honest, it’s difficult to  _ not _ remain annoyed when a ghost stood—floated rather—in front of his face and mooned him in the middle of class.

That’s right, to top it all off with the other crap he has to deal with in his teenage life, Kurosaki Ichigo could see ghosts. And the worst part of it was they knew it too.

A challenge for… well… just him it seemed. How  _ lucky _ .

For as long as he could remember he could see and interact with spirits. They dogged his steps like moths to a flame and occasionally entertained him when he was younger.  _ Much _ younger. 

Now though, as a freshman of high school, the attention was more than he could handle at times. Oh sure, some of the children were fine and maybe mischievous but they usually knew to leave well enough alone if he gave them a good enough reason. But the adult ghosts were relentless.

On the street. In the bathroom. Sometimes even peeking in when he was bathing. It was rather embarrassing all in all, even after all the years he experienced this spectral harassment. Truly, Ichigo wished it would all stop someday, that he could just close his eyes one night and wake up without having to stare at an unblinking single eye between two round cheeks. That he could finally be a normal teen, in a normal town, going to a normal school, and have a normal family.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much luck.

Which is why he sat as stiff as a board at his desk and tried his best to ignore the spirit who thought it was so damn hilarious to shove their wrinkled ass in his scowling face.

“ _ I know you can see me~” _ his tormentor taunted with a salacious grin and hip sway that really made Ichigo want to gag. The spirit in question appeared to have been around his mid-thirties when—and probably mercifully—he kicked the bucket. Dressed in a full suit and tie with a greased down comb over left Ichigo to believe that he had been a businessman of some variety, but the ghost’s attitude totally belied the image of a cool, taciturn executive. The “as seen on TV” variety. Leaving the teen to wonder just what in the hell the man had been a businessman  _ of? _

_ That train of thought leads the way to madness, _ Ichigo mused with a grimace as the ghost’s glowing white butt obscured his vision of the lecture. He bit down a frustrated growl—

A resounding knock from the classroom entrance sidelined his useless, vengeful thoughts and everyone turned their eyes to the door curiously. Ochi-sensei, their homeroom teacher, a woman with round glasses and long brown hair tied into a lazy ponytail, made a little “oh” of surprise when she slid aside the screen to converse quietly with the person on the other side. A slip of a note was passed between them, and Ichigo, thanks to the angle he was sitting could just barely make out the sleeve of the school’s grey uniform jacket clad on a thin arm.

_ Another student?  _ he wondered, glancing around the class to see if anyone else had an idea, but by the looks of things they were just as confused and whispering among themselves. It didn’t look like anyone was missing from the roll call except for the usual delinquent suspects, but they wouldn’t bother with a note if that were the case. A glance over at Chad—a large teen, and a long time friend of his—showed that he hadn’t any idea either.

With a loud crack that made everyone jump, Ochi-sensei slipped the door closed with probably more force than necessary in the new student’s face. “Well, I feel all sorts of foolish, I totally forgot to tell you guys!” She laughed loudly, striding over to her desk with a large grin on her face.

Ichigo blinked at her carefree attitude, still unused to the strange instructor’s flippant demeanor, and glanced at the door to see the person’s shadow still standing there.  _ She didn’t have to slam the door in their face, _ he thought, finding it amusing despite himself.

“Right!” the teacher announced, smacking down her notebook to jolt everyone back to attention and into silence, “Everyone we have a new student joining our humble class and I expect you all to be polite and welcoming.” 

At this, an eruption of whispers boiled forth, many wondering why they were coming to school a week late, which gender they were, and so on; which made their teacher sniff in annoyance, “Oi! I didn’t give you all permission to gossip, be respectful!” she snipped with clear irritation.

Once everyone had been cowed into silence by Ochi-sensei’s glower, she perked up and gave a wide smile toward the hall. “Okay~ You can come in now!” she cooed.

As one, all eyes ogled the door in anticipation; even Ichigo's current haunting decided to pull up his pants and observe, much to his relief. One could practically hear the questions churning in everyone's heads and a breath was collectively held as the screen slowly opened. 

Ichigo unwittingly felt his hackles rise as a strange awareness overtook him. A niggling at the edge of his senses that pinged off some sort of alarm; good or bad, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was a quiver ran down his spine.

A girl stepped inside, short brunette hair waving by her jaw, her strides staggered and uneven despite the stiff stance. Her struggles were made clear by the multiple bandages wrapped around her left thigh and ankle, her right arm suspended in a sling. No one said a word as she turned to face the class and Ichigo blinked in astonishment as even more injuries were shown.  _ How can she still be walking? _ he wondered, glancing over the many other wrappings and gauze taped onto the fingers of her working hand, around her throat, and finishing off with an eyepatch over her left eye and bandaged cheek.

She looked in all, a complete wreck.

Something felt wrong, but unable to identify its source Ichigo did a mental shake to rid himself of the feeling.  _ What is wrong with me…? _ he pondered, rubbing his temple as a headache began to form.

“Alright everyone,” Ochi-sensei chirped, a hand on her hip as she motioned with the other to the girl, “Our new student was just discharged from the hospital today, so please be gentle and considerate of her space.” Turning to the girl, she gave a pitying look while brandishing a stick of chalk. “Do you need me to write your name for you while you do introductions?”

The girl stared down at the chalk for a moment, her expression eerily blank as her right hand twitched within it’s sling. Contemplating. Grunting lowly, the girl plucked the chalk out of the woman’s fingers with her left hand and approached the board. With deliberate precision she wrote down the characters of her name, her hand remaining steady despite it being clear that she was right handed. When she was finished, she stepped away and the kanji of her name stood out precisely on the board.

_ Hikagami Umiza? _ Ichigo assumed, blinking at the oddity of her first name and rubbing the back of his neck as the prickling sensation persisted. She didn’t write it in hiragana like most girls did, which kind of left it open to interpretation. Plus the “za” syllable of her name wasn’t very common and was usually used for boys or in surnames…  _ Why didn’t she write the kana to pronounce it? _ he wondered as the girl,  _ Umiza _ , handed her chalk back to the teacher.

“Sorry…” she began, and Ichigo almost started in surprise at her voice, it was deeper and more hoarse than he thought it would be... Though maybe it had something to do with the bandage on her throat. “I can’t write the pronunciation, my arm is hurting worse than I thought.”

Ochi-sensei simply smiled and waved away her apologies. “Oh it’s alright, you did really well! I’m happy you managed to go that far, I’ll finish up for you.”

“Thank you…” Umiza nodded and then turned to face the class, her expression still as blank and dull as before. “Hello... Nice to meet you, everyone. My name is Hikagami Kaiza, please treat me well.” She bowed politely, if a bit stiffly and Ichigo gave a frown as it almost seemed a struggle for her to sit upright again, yet her face showed no discomfort. Ochi-sensei dutifully wrote the katakana for pronunciation above the kanji, her swift strokes denoting the “kai,” and “za” characters above the respective symbols.

_ That’s kind of a… boyish sounding name, _ Ichigo admitted, leaning back in his chair as the girl, Umi- no...  _ Kai _ za continued with her introduction, detailing about her life living in a small village in the mountains. She seemed to be the quiet type, though the use of “ _ boku _ ” to refer to herself was kind of telling. Likely a tomboy as she didn’t seem like the type to try and be cutesy for attention. 

It was also very unsettling how she didn’t seem to express herself and stared at the crowd of students without really looking at anyone. Perhaps it had something to do with the accident she was clearly in, but it was tough to be sure. 

_ What in the hell happened…? _ Ichigo wondered.

Pausing, Ichigo blinked at the direction of his thoughts. He’d never been so concerned before when it came to other students. Usually he hung out or interacted with only a few people, due to his reputation and in part his unfriendly attitude, which pushed a majority of the others away. He was never one to pay attention to who his teachers were or what new student joined the fold. So what was so different this time?

_ Is it her I’m sensing? _

_ “Oohhh~ What an adorable little girl!” _ the perverted ghost squealed, making Ichigo snap out of his musing and grimace, he’d completely forgotten about the guy. And since he couldn’t really do anything that wouldn’t make the entire class think he was totally insane, Ichigo could only watch with a muted groan as the spirit floated over to the new girl with a lewd grin. He prepared for the worst, already having seen the guy create a stray gust of wind to flip up skirts.

What Ichigo wasn’t prepared for, was when Kaiza narrowed her visible eye and glared at the ghost full on, a foreboding feeling filling up the class that stopped the spirit right in his tracks.

Ichigo stilled.  _ I was right, _ he marveled, a wash of an invisible force cascading over him like water,  _ She’s the source of the feeling! _

One of his peers who was right in her line of sight visibly flinched at the hostile look, not knowing what her true sight was focused on. Ichigo felt all at once a disparity of conflicting feelings. Hope, that finally someone else had the same problems he did and could finally have someone to communicate with. And dread, because something just didn’t feel right about that glare, like she was… staring at an insect. 

_ What is she going to do? _ he questioned, a faint tingling sensation edging along his senses, the kind that he always associated when a ghost was nearby.

It was new.

It was thrilling.

It was terrifying.

“Uhm… Hikagami-san, is everything alright?” Ochi-sensei spoke, instantly breaking the tension and making Kaiza blink from the quivering ghost to glance at her curiously, “You got really serious there…” the teacher explained, her eyes darting between the frightened student and the new girl, clearly making wrong assumptions.

“Ah…” Kaiza drolled with a languid blink, her flat expression returning as if nothing had transpired, the suffocating atmosphere dissipating with it. “I remembered that I might have left the oven on, but I’m sure it will be fine,” she lied easily, making Ichigo nearly palm his face at the obvious fib. 

_ That is not the look you give when you’re worried about your house burning down! Plus, didn’t you just come from the hospital?! _

“Right…” Ochi-sensei stated disbelievingly, taking one more look at her newest student before glancing around the room, “Well, let’s get you settled in a desk and then I can continue the lecture… Kurosaki!”

“Yeah?” he immediately replied in a dour tone, the feeling of apprehension from before boring a hole in his stomach at what he could guess was going to come next.

“Raise your hand please!” the instructor commanded, a grin on her face when he complied, if with an annoyed face, “Go ahead and take the desk next to him, Hikagami-san and later we can arrange something to help you with the material you missed. If you have any questions, Kurosaki can help you out…” At the incoherent mumbling coming from Ichigo, Ochi-sensei simply gave a wider smile. “Alright! Back to the lecture!”

As the teacher prattled on in the background, Ichigo was in the middle of a crisis.  _ Oh shit, she’s coming this way! Damn it, why does she have to sit next to me?! _ He noted with no little trepidation that the spirit gave her a wide berth, his eyes the size of dinner plates, and when she passed by him fully, the ghost made a hasty escape out the window with a whimper of fear.  _ Oh good, that makes me feel loads better! _ the teen fretted, a bead of sweat running from his temple and down the curve of his jaw.

They made eye contact.

He heard her intake a breath of air through her nose, the nostrils flaring slightly; he saw her single eye widen, the pupil narrowing into a pinprick, and a range of emotions that flashed across her face. Ichigo couldn’t identify them all, too caught up in the oddity that she was even expressing herself after all the effort of keeping it under wraps before, but the ones that stood out really made him wonder:

Surprise.

Realization.

Anxiety.

_ Did she hear about me or something? _ he wondered, watching her quicken her pace as she stepped past him and took her seat, her lips scrunched tight but the eyepatch obscuring the rest. She pointedly did not look at him again, her hands fiddling with the papers on her desk.

_ Weird... _ Ichigo mused, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye while idly scratching at his notebook in a half-assed attempt to take notes. 

Admittedly, he couldn’t help but be both compelled and disturbed by her presence; just something within his senses pinged off as conflicting with her so near and he wasn’t sure why. She was small and rather unthreatening, if the way she held herself was indication, self-assured but not throwing her weight around. He couldn’t see how she could be dangerous. 

It was rather boggling how contradicting it was.

Rubbing at the back of his neck again, Ichigo blinked when she turned to give him a wary glance, the russet hues of her single eye glaring over the curve of her nose. She flicked something at him and he gave a short start when it thwacked him right between his eyes and landed on his lap. Giving her his best scowl, which she didn’t see because she was now entirely focused on the teacher, he picked up the paper and furrowed his brow when he saw that it was folded tight into a triangle.

_ When did she fold this? _ the teen wondered, giving her a side glance when he noticed an arrow penned onto the paper, the scrawl pointing out the finishing fold. Popping out the end, Ichigo meticulously unraveled the note, keeping his hands below his desk and his eyes up front so no one got suspicious.

Once the paper was completely undone, he placed it within his notebook to read it in peace—  

Only to nearly choke when he saw the contents of the letter:

Please stop staring. It’s rude.

Ichigo felt his face grow flaming hot and he hurriedly crossed out the message to make the characters illegible.  _ H-how long was I just watching her like a damned creep?! _ he fretted with a decent helping of panic,  _ What if someone saw me? Oh shit, my image will be ruined… What do I do?!  _

Sloppily folding the paper, the teen nearly slammed the note into the pocket of his notebook and furiously scribbled to catch the words and annotations written on the board, trying to put his embarrassment as far behind him as possible.

A huff sounded beside him and he didn’t dare to look over to see what it meant. Ichigo couldn’t help but feel however that he’d been had.

xXx

Class finished without further incident and segued into the lunch hour with a palpable excitement that was typically expected with a new classmate. Ichigo, still a bit miffed about his humiliating slip-up earlier, grouched away at his desk after eating and tried without success to appear unaffected by what happened. Meanwhile, a majority of his classmates crowded around the new girl, blocking her from sight and asking a plethora of questions.

“What was it like living in the country?” one girl asked with probably more than necessary enthusiasm.

“—Do you have family living here?” another girl questioned just as quickly.

“—How did you get those injuries?” a boy pried, barely even waiting for the other questions to be finished before putting forth his own.

“Mmm...” Kaiza hummed detachedly, finishing up the last of her sandwich. It sounded like she didn’t even know where to begin with having so many queries bombarded upon her at once. Probably. Going by her expression— _ or lack of one _ —she didn’t seem terribly concerned by their presence.

“Do you have a boyfriend?!”

That last one was his newest friend Asano Keigo, a brown-haired goof that was constantly trying—and failing—to woo girls. A wannabe in pretty much every respect but he seemed to be a pretty upstanding guy, if a bit cowardly. Conversely, Kojima Mizuiro acted like his foil, black-haired and pretty popular with the ladies, he was everything that Keigo was not. How they became friends was still a mystery despite being told the story.

Ichigo met the two on the first day of school and they’d been stuck like glue to him ever since. Apparently, beating the crap out of other notorious thugs and reigning in people to make an excuse to the school principal was the ingredients needed to start a beautiful friendship. Who knew?

A subtle grin pulled on Ichigo’s lips when he saw his childhood rival Arisawa Tatsuki, a black haired tomboy that he used to compete with in karate class when they were nine, give Keigo a harsh elbow to the ribs. No one really paid any heed to the event, already used to the group’s antics.

Snorting in amusement as he watched Tatsuki pull the wailing boy away while that red-headed friend of hers fussed at the scene, Ichigo turned to glance at the growing mob by his desk. A feeling of pity welled up within him upon remembering that she’d just been released from the hospital, and that the instructor expressly told them to take it easy on her.

He was still mad though… his forehead had yet to stop aching where she whacked him with that paper triangle.  _ How’d she even aim it from that angle? _

The crowd bustled in even tighter in anticipation and Ichigo remembered that he was supposed to step in.

Before he could open his mouth however, she beat him to the punch. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, placing a hand over where her left brow would have been visible if the eyepatch wasn’t in the way, “I… am not feeling too well.”

At this, the group of teens shied away to give her space, parting like the Red Sea. “Oh… do you need help getting to the nurse’s office?” one of the quieter girls with a bobbed haircut asked tentatively, her hands held up to her chest.

Shaking her head mutely, the new girl stood stiffly, her posture as steady as her wounds would allow. “Thank you, but I know the way.” Single eye and expression blank, she turned to address the other girl directly, “I would not like to trouble or inconvenience you. You have my thanks.” Giving a slight bow, the teen turned and hobbled to the door with little difficulty, the chatter of the students only starting up again when the door closed behind her.

“Bit of an odd duck that one…”

“Ryō!” the bobbed girl exclaimed aghast, whirling around to address an older teen with long raven hair holding a book up to her face.

“Just saying what we’re all thinking,” she replied simply, her thin brows quirking before focusing her shrewd eyes back to the book in hand, “Hikagami-san seems to be pretty cold. And don’t forget the look she gave Momohara. Poor guy almost wet himself…”

“Maybe she’s just nervous?” someone else pitched in.

Ryō scoffed. “Did that look like someone who was nervous to you?”

“I dunno, it didn’t really look like she was focused on him...”

Ichigo twitched at that, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he was reminded that she could see ghosts and he was the only one who knew. He could recall many times as a child trying to point out something that others couldn’t see. It was how a lot of the bullying in his early years started. It was part of the reason he learned how to fight.

The debate continued in the background, but Ichigo no longer paid it any heed.

_ She probably feels like an outcast, _ he mused, scooting his chair back and standing before even realizing it. Turning about, Ichigo walked to the classroom door, his long strides swiftly making the distance. Someone called his name in the background, but he staunchly ignored it and was out and lightly jogging down the hall before anyone else tried to catch his attention.

_ She’s alone… _ he reflected, remembering the way she looked at the ghost. How it seemed to be more of an annoyance, now that he recalled her expression. Like she was irritated by a problem that would just not go away. There were many days that Ichigo felt the same, like the spirit’s had nothing better to do than to bother and interfere with his life. Maybe she felt the same?

_ And maybe... _ Ichigo wondered, thinking about when his eyes met her one, the anxiety he saw.  _ I misinterpreted what her feelings were. _

Eyes ahead, the teen saw the new girl leaning against the wall, her left arm braced against the paneling. His lips thinned.  _ Only one way to find out… _

He opened his mouth to say something but paused when he realized that he actually forgot her last name. Groaning, Ichigo smacked his forehead in annoyance.  _ Damn it, what the hell brain. I can’t just call her by her first name, people will make assumptions! _

_ Okay, just be cool, _ Ichigo thought, pushing his embarrassment aside and taking a deep breath.  _ You’re going to ask her something way weirder in comparison, so just avoid saying her name… You do it all the time. And yeah, it’ll be rude but you DO rude, dude! _

A beat of pause.

_ … Did I seriously just freaking think that? Oh my god, I’m such a nerd! _ he thought, imagining himself bashing his head against a wall, his face warming slightly.

Busy berating himself, Ichigo didn’t realize something was wrong until he was almost standing next to her. He blinked in surprise at what he saw.

Kaiza’s shoulders were hunched inward defensively, she was leaning a little too heavily to the left and was almost completely using the wall for support, her left leg gingerly held off the floor. A faint gasp left her lips and Ichigo closed the distance quickly, concern fueling his movements.

“Are you okay?” he questioned, making her flinch and whip a startled glance in his direction, her single eye wide. Ichigo marveled as her expression closed off a beat later, her face smoothing back into the neutral dullness that she seemed to favor around others.  _ How does she just switch it off like that? _

“Can I help you?” Kaiza asked robotically. Simple. Succinct.

Ichigo blinked at the question, baffled at the recited drone of the words. No inflection. No emotion. Just _ dead _ . It might have been something she was taught to say ad nauseum, but he wasn’t totally sure. ‘Unnerving’ was the best word to describe it, but he didn’t try to linger on that. She seemed to be a master of the art.

“No, but can I help you?” Ichigo tried again, hoping to maybe get a reaction that wasn’t so… programmed. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I am fine,” she stated flatly, her voice a little more rough than before. A lie made obvious when a bead of sweat ran down into her eyebrow and the way her raised leg quivered with effort.

_ Yeah right.  _ He scowled, lips almost forming a perfect arc. _ And I’m the Reigning Emperor’s cousin. _

It was clear she was in pain, but for whatever reason Ichigo couldn’t fathom, she was putting up a brave front; as if she really meant by what she said about not bothering anyone. Scowling as a thought suddenly occurred to him, Ichigo took a closer look at the bandages around her neck, drawing out a startled grunt from the girl as he invaded her space. Ichigo’s frown deepened.

“Hey… Did you wrap these yourself?”

Her eye twitched once and that was all the confirmation he needed. She was trying to hide her surprise he knew, she’d never even been to the hospital. 

_ Why would she lie about that? But then how did she get the doctor’s note? _ Ichigo pondered, while out loud he declared, “Look there’s no point in lying to me, my old man owns a clinic, so I basically grew up learning this stuff.” When she gave no affirmation that she understood and continued to look at him with that unnerving empty stare which made the nape of his neck tingle, he ran a hand through his hair. “What I’m trying to say is I’m offering to help you.”

Finally, a reaction, and while it was not exactly the one he was looking for, it was something. Her eye narrowed suspiciously. “Why,” she spoke shortly, somehow making it seem not like a question and more of a demand.

“Why shouldn’t I?” He retorted challengingly, extending a hand to show he was being genuine, “I can help you get to the nurse’s office if you don’t mind leaning on me for a bit, or I can go get someone else if you’re uncomfortable with that. But the fact of the matter is you need some help, sooner rather than later.”

Silence fell between them as the new girl’s single eye gazed into both of his, the russet iris bouncing to and fro as she seemed to mull over his words. Ichigo couldn’t fully understand why she was so untrusting. 

_ What happened? _ he wondered, staring back at her just as searchingly, as if he could just pick apart her brain with his eyes alone,  _ What happened to make you so suspicious of everyone? _

“Does this have anything to do with why you were staring at me earlier?” she inquired with a suggestive raise in her brow.

Ichigo blushed scarlet. “No! T-that was…”

“Then what do you want?”

He blinked, momentarily thrown by the abrupt turn in conversation, his cheeks still stained red. Subconsciously, his hand rose to massage the spot her note hit as he simultaneously tried to figure out what she was asking. 

The confusion must have reflected on his face because her eye narrowed again and she elaborated on the query, “What do you want in return?”

Flabbergasted, Ichigo scratched the back of his head.  _ Does she... not understand that some people just do a good deed for the sake of it? _ he speculated, frowning again when that brought forth unsavory scenarios as to why that would be. Sighing, the teen figured he might as well speak the truth. “Look, I didn’t do this expecting you to give me something, but if that’s what you want, fine. However, I’m not going to expressly demand anything, you can do what you want.”

Ichigo noted that her jaw tightened then, the muscles in her cheeks clenching and her lips thinning into a line. “Very well,” she murmured huskily, wetting her lips as she glanced away, “as it seems I can’t dissuade you.”

“Nope!” Ichigo smirked, gently reaching forward to grasp her uninjured arm and slide over so she was braced against his side. It made things easier that she was at least close to his height, a couple inches taller than Tatsuki, so he didn’t have to crouch as much. He felt her stiffen when he reached down to her ribs so he could better hold her weight and he withdrew his hand in alarm. “Are you hurt there too?”

Working her jaw a moment, she shook her head. “Let’s move.” 

Hesitantly he complied, though he did apply pressure a little bit more tenderly just in case.

They both walked down the hall, Ichigo occasionally looking down to check on the other teen’s progress, sometimes catching a glimpse of an almost pained expression on her face before darting his eyes forward again. He figured she kept a stoic demeanor for a reason and that he might just be insulting her if he constantly asked if she was okay. It could be past trauma. It could be pride. He didn’t know. But it didn’t stop him from being concerned when she would suddenly let out a breath of air as if she was holding it in.

“You need to take deep breaths,” he finally commented after about the fourth time she did this. It wasn’t good to hold one’s breath when in pain, it made the person nauseous and could cause them to collapse if proper breathing techniques weren’t taken. Ichigo wondered yet again if her ribs were damaged.

“Guhgf~” was the reply and Ichigo whipped his head down to see a truly agonized contortion in her features, nose wrinkled and brows pinched. He almost stopped in his tracks but the girl shook her head. “Keep moving. Almost... There...”

Reluctantly, he followed her wishes and they both shuffled to the office at a quicker pace, the girl almost pulling him over or away from him a couple of times in her haste. He was surprised she had even the strength to do so with how much pain she was in, but he wasn’t about to let her walk by herself.

Really, from what he could see she needed a doctor immediately.

Bursting into the infirmary, the first thing that was going to be out of Ichigo’s mouth was “Doctor” but the new student beat him to it again.

“Medication,” she gritted out, giving what Ichigo found to be probably the best venomous glare he’d ever seen to the school nurse who was just open mouthed in shock. “Need my medication… Hikagami Kaiza.”

_ What. _

Bursting into action, the woman didn’t even think twice about ushering them to one of the beds and flapping her way to a medicine cabinet. Ichigo stared in complete bewilderment as she picked out a brown bottle, dumping a couple of large pills in her hand and then grabbing a glass of water. Skittering to her patient the nurse held out the pills and the girl all but snatched the medicine from the woman’s proffered hand, downing both of them with a click of her teeth, only taking the water after she’d already swallowed them.

The nurse tittered over the pained teen and had her lay down on the bed, carefully removing her shoes and pulling the sheet up. She thanked Ichigo profusely for being such a “kind young man” and escorting the new student to get her daily medicine, but had to insist he leave so that Kaiza-chan could get proper rest and he could continue his studies.

It was such a whirlwind of words and motion that Ichigo didn’t get time to tell the girl that he’d come check on her later and was pushed out of the room with no ceremony, the door slamming in his face. 

In fact, he was so surprised, it took several moments of him staring at the wood paneling to realize he’d been kicked out. Scowling, Ichigo said the first thing that came to mind:

“What the fuck?”

xXx

In a residential suburb of Karakura Town, on a street so normal as to not attract any attention, a plain shop with an old fashioned aesthetic crouched between two apartment buildings. Bold kanji read as “Urahara Shoten” on a white sign above the entrance. 

While the building itself looked to be more familiar with a different era or even in a historic village than a city suburb, it catered a variety of sweets and various curiosities for a low price. The inhabitants of the area claimed, that though the shop owner was a bit eccentric, the family that lived there were pleasant enough and never caused trouble. 

But within that old shop, on a plain cushion sitting on the very ordinary tatami mats, was a self-proclaimed honest—and rather handsome if he did say so himself—businessman having a pleasant conversation with a friend over the phone.

Completely normal...

“Are you sure about this?” a low voice over the receiver asked, their tone indicating a level of caution and disbelief in the other’s judgement. Doubt wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but when it came to this particular subject it was always better to err on the side of caution.

“Oh, definitely,” he answered with cheer, tilting his head as he fluttered a paper fan with his free hand, “The only way to get over fears is to face them head on, not cower in a wooden box. Think of this like a test run to see how well things go.” Idly, he fiddled with his tea cup, tilting it every which way and allowing the water to slosh without a drop falling onto the table.

A sigh on the line made him pause in all movement, the man didn’t sound happy. “Yeah, but why  _ there _ ? If what you are saying is true… doesn’t that put  _ certain _ people in danger?” Some shuffling and screeching through the receiver told the caller that the man was shifting in his old office chair. He’d told him several times to get a new one, but his friend was adamant about the importance of comfo— 

“What if...” Those words interrupted his thought process and he snapped the fan closed, listening intently. “And I’m not saying it will happen, but what if someone is targeted? Will you take responsibility?”

Snorting, he tapped the fan against his jaw and said, “But of course! It’s why I contacted you, to give fair warning in case anything  _ does  _ go wrong. And while yes, we let the cat out at night and the kids are always vigilant, it’s not always enough. Things have a tendency to slip through our fingers occasionally, we aren’t completely infallible,” he said, chuckling sardonically and scratching at his stubble, the hairs rasping against his nails, “As for the location, it was all a matter of convenience...”

Exasperatedly, his friend growled, “Kisuke...”

“I mean it’s  _ right there _ —”

“Kisuke!”

“Isshin,” he interrupted, his voice no longer joking, scrubbing a hand through his straw-like hair a couple of times, he huffed and continued, “We’ve stressed the importance of life as much as we could. The only way this is going to work is if it’s seen and experienced firsthand. Secondhand tellings and warnings are only doing so much and socialization outside of the current circle is a must. We can’t keep things hiding in the basement forever.”

Clinical and concise. Cold. He had to be if he wanted to keep this impersonal, because he’d been disappointed before. So many times.

Too many times.

And in truth it hurt trying to keep everything at arm's length all the time, but sometimes it was for the greater good. No matter his personal feelings on it.

Silence on the other end told Kisuke that Isshin was thinking it over, despite knowing that he spoke the truth. And while, yes, this current project of his had an inherent danger to it, the possibility of forging loyalty was too much of a boon to risk leaving things as they are.

But that was the genius scientist in him, the humane man on the other hand just wanted the poor kid to have friends. Was that too much to ask?

It brought him back to that rainy day so many years ago, the street nearly greyed out with the density of the downpour, the day turning into a matte twilight. He’d seen the child crouched in a playground structure, but hadn’t thought anything of it until he passed by again later, this time during the dark of night.

_ ‘Do I deserve to live?’ _

Those words, spoken by a child no less, never ceased to send a chill down his spine.

A groan. _ Damn it, I really can’t be completely detached can I? _

“Alright,” the resigned voice of Isshin crackled over the phone, derailing his thoughts, “But if my son gets involved I get a free punch to your face and a ‘told you so.’”

Kisuke laughed, flicking open his fan and flopping onto his back, madly waving the paper back and forth as he chortled. Once he calmed down enough to speak coherently, he asked, “You make it sound like your son’s a magnet for trouble, Isshin. Come on, don’t you have any faith?”

Silence.

Profoundly  _ unamused _ silence.

“Isshin?” 

No response.

“Isshin, I can hear you breathing.” A sigh on the other end, answered his cajoling call and Kisuke chortled, “Oh come on, at least don’t get the rock this time, that really hurts and you know as well as I do that you have a higher chance of breaking your fingers that way.”

“That’s not—” His friend paused, then gave an incredulous growl. “Wait, does that mean you expect this to go to shit?! What the hell, Kisuke?!”

Giving a scoff, Kisuke waved his hand, even though it would be impossible for the other man to see it. “Now. Now. Don’t come to hasty conclusions… Besides, you never know, they could become the best of friends!”

Again no words reached him, but instead of silence all he could hear was controlled breathing.

“Or would you prefer lovers—”

“I’m sharpening my knife, Kisuke,” Isshin hissed, the threshold for his patience apparently reaching critical, a good a sign as any that the conversation needed to end.

“Welp! Would you look at that I got another call!” Kisuke crowed and promptly hung up before Isshin could make any more hazardous promises, tossing the cell phone onto the table like it was a live viper. “Jeez, no confidence whatsoever,” he grumbled, picking up his now cold mug of tea and taking a sip, grimacing at the flavor, “Need to send someone on a corner store run again, what brand is this?”

Investigations on tea branding had to be put on a halt however, because at that precise moment his phone began to buzz angrily across the table, vibrating until it almost hit the floor. Luckily, Kisuke caught it before it could do just that and glanced at the screen to see who was contacting him.

‘ _ Karakura High _ ’ stood out in bold on the screen and he scowled as Isshin’s concerns rang in his ears. 

“I was joking…”

xXx

Stomping his way down the street, Ichigo grumbled to himself as he made his way home. The rest of the school day having dragged on for what seemed like forever after the incident with the new girl, and he’d been hankering to drill her for information. He just couldn’t get his mind off the fact that not only had she lied about going to a hospital; she’d somehow gotten a doctor’s note, bandaged herself, AND got a hold of an unknown medication which may or may not have the proper dosage.

He was so focused on getting answers that when class finally ended for the day, he’d completely skimped out on end of day cleaning and rushed to the nurse’s office only to find the new girl gone.

As an extra bonus to an already crap day, the nurse had cooed about how cute it was and if he was going to ask her out, causing Ichigo to sputter indignantly. An action that only seemed to put fuel on an already blazing inferno, making Ichigo the unfortunate victim of a lecture on the opposite sex.

_ If I ever see that crazy woman again, it’ll be all too soon, _ he lamented, throwing his head back to groan in exasperation. More things than he’d ever wanted to know had been thrown at him with a glee that could only be constituted as unnatural and Ichigo sorely wished that the nurse would find someone else to vicariously live through.

The sun was already beginning to set, the last rays of twilight staining the sky in hues of red and purple, the streets empty of commuters. Ichigo breathed in the chill air, the final vestiges of winter still clinging to the night. He groaned again.  _ The Old Man’s gonna throw a fit with me being late. “Dinner’s always at seven, you delinquent!” he’ll say and then gripe at Mom’s poster. Geez, why couldn’t my father be norm— _

A street lamp extinguished with an audible snap, plunging Ichigo into darkness and causing him to leap in surprise, startled by the abrupt change in light. Giving the lamp post a considering glare, the teen huffed in annoyance.  _ First time that’s ever happened… _ he groused, quickening his pace when a cold wind wrung a shiver from him, “Should have brought my coat...”

Indeed, the longer he stayed out, the colder it became. At this point, he was really cursing the nurse for keeping him on campus for so long and Ichigo had to wonder yet again about the new girl.  _ Something Kaiza _ … he mused, placing a hand on his chin in thought,  _ Hikari..? No that doesn’t seem right. It started with “hi” right? Himura? Hisagi… Or maybe— _

The next lamp buzzed out just like the first, and Ichigo allowed his thoughts to derail as he felt ice creep along his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.  _ Once is chance, twice is a coincidence, _ he tried reassuring himself, but a faint tingling along his awareness did nothing to ease his paranoia, he’d seen enough horror movies to get an idea of what could happen. His strides lengthened even more, putting him at a loose jog, the next street light not too far. 

Something slid behind him, clattering along the pavement and Ichigo booked it, his shoes grinding into the sidewalk.  _ The hell was that?! _ he raved, chancing a look back to see if he could catch a glimpse of what it was.

For a moment, he thought he saw a bent shadow, but when he fully whipped around after stepping into the lamp light and fell into a fighting stance, there was nothing.

Gasping for air, his heart beating like a stampede, Ichigo slumped over to brace his hands against his knees, a barking laugh escaping him. 

_ I’m being an idiot. _ He chortled, standing back up again to wipe away the sweat dotting his brow.  _ Being afraid of the freaking dark, I’m not seven anymore. Tatsuki and the Old Man would have a field day if they knew. _ Running a hand through his hair and feeling just a bit foolish, Ichigo turned to continue his walk.

Only to pause, his shoes scuffing on the pavement, as a hooded figure in black blocked his path.

“Wha—” he began, only to choke on his words as something constricted his torso, making it difficult to breath. A panicked glance down showed nothing, just empty air.  _ W-why—Why can’t I move?! _

The light flickered above and Ichigo felt a seed of panic coil deep within the pit of his stomach.

A voice rasped:

**“You   sm e L |   w [ ] n d = r - f l,   K u R sk za z a z  a—”**

And with a snap…. The light went out.


	2. re`Mem0[ry]Z

_ It hurt... At first. Warmth flooded through him, from head to toe, boiling his blood and filling up like a balloon. A reservoir. Overflowing him with ease and comfort. Heat... It was all he could feel. His mind hazed with fog. _

_ What was he doing here again? What was this? Oh right. He needed to get home… _

_ He tried to say it—or at least... he thought he said it. Felt good to say it. The fever receded, pulling away from him. Cold. So cold now. A smell like metal and smoke...  _

_ He was so tired. _

_ Drip. _

_ Drip… _

_ Drip~ _

_ Did someone start the rain? _

xXx

Ichigo awoke with a start.

It took him a couple moments of blinking and darting his eyes around to realize that he, in fact, was in his room tucked snugly into his blankets. The comforting smell of the linens and the familiar sight of his furniture helped put him at ease, that he was safe.

_ Safe...? _ He wondered, now puzzled as he sat up and glanced around. Everything seemed to be in order, nothing in his room had been moved, and Yuzu could be heard downstairs setting up the kitchen table for breakfast.  _ What am I missing here? _ Ichigo contemplated, pushing aside his blankets and easing his feet down to the carpet, the soft woven fabric grounding him as his toes sunk in.

It was all so surreal.

The day felt off, but nothing could explicitly point out what was the cause. His dream earlier had been strange, but no matter how much he tried to focus on it, the picture of what exactly went on became less clear.  _ Something about fog? A bath maybe? It’d been hot, then cold and the sound of dripping water... _ Shrugging to himself, Ichigo stood and made his way to the closet, checking the clock as he passed.

9:14 AM glared back at him in large mocking red text and the world flipped on its axis.

“ _ Shit! _ I’m late!” he shrieked, quickly stripping himself of his shirt, his long fingers fumbling about with the tied drawstring on his pants for a moment before finally divesting himself of those too.  _ What the hell?! Usually the Old Man is the one to give me a crash course wake up call if I’m not out of bed! _ Ichigo fumed, slipping on a t-shirt and grabbing his uniform pants.

While, in the process of pulling the slacks over his hips, a loud stomping alerted him to the fact a person was bolting to his door. Tensing up in preparation for a “surprise attack” from his father, Ichigo was instead startled by his door slamming open abruptly and his younger sister Yuzu standing stock still, her eyes wide.

“ _ Yuzu? _ !” Ichigo yelped, hastily fastening his drawers in a bid for modesty, his face the color of a ripe plum. His sisters never barged into his room without knocking, that was a bad habit reserved only for their eccentric parent.

Today, it seemed, was a day for new routines because instead of squealing in embarrassment or trying to hide her eyes, Yuzu stared a moment, completely gobsmacked, before full tilt tackling into his torso with a strength that left him stumbling and rather shocked. What happened to his sweet and gentle sister? 

Luckily, he landed on his bed instead of braining himself on a hard surface and was left confused as his sister clung to him like a limpet.

“Yuzu? What in the—?”

“Ichi-nii! Ichi-nii…” she cried, clutching onto his shirt in a vice grip like he’d disappear any second. The tears he couldn’t see—what with her face-planting his stomach—began to leak through his shirt and did a pretty decent job of dampening his skin. Her hair was an absolute tangled mess, the usual downy locks now unkempt and a little greasy. Bewildered, Ichigo placed a soothing hand on her back, feeling her body quiver with heavy sobs.

“What happened? Hey—Yuzu...?” Ichigo attempted, trying to pry an answer from his distraught sibling. He tried lifting her up and off of him but that only seemed to make her wail louder and grab at him more.

A shuffling along the landing forced his gaze away from one sister to the other, Karin’s pale-faced expression highlighting the darkness around her eyes and the lankness of her black hair. No waterworks started for her, but Ichigo did detect a minute wobbling of her lip as she mouthed hoarsely, “I’ll go get dad,” before fleeing back down the stairway.

Heart thumping harder, Ichigo felt apprehension creep over him. _ Just what in the hell is going on? Karin never acts like that…  _ Glancing at Yuzu, he bent to give her the best hug that he could, but with the angle at which she was still holding him, it made the entire action too awkward to continue, so he stopped. Instead, he opted to pet her hair and gave a frustrated sigh as his fingers ran through her normally soft locks. “You know, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.” Ichigo goaded, trying once again to get Yuzu to say something…  _ anything _ .

He hated being left in the dark.

“Y-you…” Yuzu sniffled, her voice still muffled into his shirt, the words weak and wavering, “You didn’t wake up…” At this, Ichigo stiffened, an acute sense of foreboding crawling up his spine. “D-dad said you were just tired b-but—” She heaved a shuddering breath, finally raising her head to look Ichigo in the eyes, her tear stained face crumpling again as her tone rose in pitch, “I-I-I thought you were—were going to sleep forever! Just like Mom!” she howled, planting herself onto his chest as she again broke down into loud sobs.

At a loss, Ichigo could only look up in bewildered hope at his father when heavy footfalls herald his arrival. He blinked when he saw the man’s expression, the normally goofy facade now replaced with an uncharacteristically guarded one. Karin was holding their father’s much larger hand in her own like a lifeline, making her seem so much smaller and vulnerable.

“Hey.” Isshin stated, coal black eyes darting over Ichigo’s form and focusing on Yuzu for a moment before meeting his son’s gaze, “How do you feel?”

“A bit confused, Goat Face.” Ichigo replied truthfully with a half smirk, his voice cracking slightly despite trying, and failing, to lighten the mood. Smile falling, he adjusted Yuzu carefully so she no longer cut off circulation in his leg, her sobs finally dying down into whimpers as she curled herself onto his lap. He’d forgotten just how small his sisters were, it’d been a long time since he carried them like this. 

Looking back up to his father, all humor lost, he asked the only thing that came to mind, “What happened…?

Sighing, his father ran a hand through his short hair and made his way over to Ichigo’s desk, plopping down into the chair once Karin let go of his hand and crawled up next to her brother and sister, quiet the whole way. “I had hoped... you could tell me that,” Isshin answered, much to Ichigo’s concern, “Do you remember coming home?”

_ What?  _ Glancing at Karin, who returned his look with a solemn one of her own, Ichigo wondered what he meant, “Of course I remem—” He trailed off, alarmed, furrowing his brows thinking back to the previous day. Something was missing. “Yesterday, I… had gone to the nurse’s office to check on someone…” Ichigo recounted out loud, feeling a little better saying it to an audience, recalling how the nurse had gushed about him being sweet on the new girl, and how late she’d held him back by talking his ear off, “I got caught up in conversation and lost track of time so it was dark by the time I started heading home…” An uneasy sensation coiled in his stomach and Ichigo felt a cold sweat creep over him. “It was cold and I… wished I brought a thicker coat…”

Things got hazier the further he delved and Ichigo scrunched his eyes shut, trying to visualize the event. “I knew you’d get all dramatic about me coming home late, so I was trying to rush. It was dark…”

_ It was dark and then— _

Blank.

Ichigo batted his eyes, the action almost seeming more sluggish than usual, “Ah…” He groaned, bringing a hand up to a twinge of faint pain from his temple, “It was dark… and…” The street had been dim, the only thing lighting the way had been streetlamps, and all the commuters made it home so the roads were empty.

“And… and…” Ichigo tried, his face scrunching in concentration,  _ Something isn’t right! I’ve already said “it was dark,” why is my brain so focused on that? _

_ Blank. _

A small hand gently grabbed his bicep and he peered over to see Karin staring at him with wide watery eyes, worry furrowing her brow, “Ichi… It’s okay.”

He hadn’t realized his breathing had quickened, the grip on the back of Yuzu’s shirt tightened into a tangled knot. Three sets of eyes were focused on him with various levels of concern and Ichigo felt sick. It was too hot in here. Yuzu got off of him as he stood to rush to the bathroom, a faint shout of alarm sounding off behind him as he bolted. Sick. He was going to be sick. Kneeling before the porcelain bowl, Ichigo coughed and winced as his esophagus burned. Nothing on his stomach, so it gave the alternative; pure stomach acid. He heaved and proceeded to puke, the sounds of his efforts echoing within the room. It hurt, which caused his diaphragm to convulse further. 

Curses combined with the sound of hurling would be heard for the next minute as Ichigo struggled to get himself under control. He couldn’t explain it, but for some reason he felt… 

_ Violated. _

It was the only word that came to mind, but it fit perfectly.

After his stomach calmed, Ichigo stood and headed to the sink, the faucet squeaking loudly when he turned on the cold water, splashing the liquid on his face. A brisk shock shot through him at the contact and he felt better for it, gasping into the basin.

His arms were shaking, hands sunk so hard into the countertop that his knuckles whitened.

A look at his own reflection only told him what he already knew, a haunted expression deepening his features, his eyes wild with panic. “Why can’t I remember?” Ichigo questioned roughly, bumping his forehead against the mirror, as if hoping the action would knock some sense into him. Closing his eyes again, Ichigo attempted to make a picture in his mind, he could almost see it; the dimly lit pedestrian street, cinderblock walls on either side with houses or businesses beyond, the lamplight flickering—

_ Blank. _

_ It’s right there, damn it!  I can feel it, like it’s just at the edge of my mind! _ Frustrated, Ichigo slammed his hands down into the counter, willing with all his might to just recall.  _ Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Come on! _

Large fingers gingerly grasped his elbow and Ichigo flicked his eyes over to see Dad, a look of pity and understanding on his rugged features. His sisters peeked around the corner of the door and Ichigo wondered briefly how long they’d been waiting for him to come out. A flash of guilt shot through him. “Come on son… It’s okay. Let’s just sit down for a bit. Are you hungry at all?” his father asked and when Ichigo shook his head, breath shuddering, he nodded in return, “Okay, maybe just some tea then.”

“Dad!” Ichigo barked, clamping down on the man’s forearm desperately, “What is…” He started brokenly, his voice cracking as all the anxiety finally caught up to him, the taste of bile still hot on his tongue, “What’s happening to me? What… what  _ happened? _ ”

Isshin sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. Placing his hand on Ichigo’s shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze he motioned to the stairs before speaking, “Let’s sit down first, I’ll tell you what I know.”

Reluctantly, Ichigo followed his advice, startled for a moment when both of his sisters grabbed a hand each and led him down the stairs, their expressions mirrored more than they’d ever been in a long time. Whatever had affected him also had a great effect on his younger siblings, and he hated himself for that. He never wanted to cause them pain or give them any reason to be concerned.

_ Not like this… _

They curled into his sides when he sat on the couch, their legs tucked up to their chins as the girls leaned into him. His own personal little support group. Yuzu pulled down a blanket draped over the back of the couch so that it covered his legs, and Karin helped her straighten it out. Isshin banged around in the kitchen, the chime of porcelain letting Ichigo know that he was setting the tea tray. He tried to relax, taking a deep breath in through his nose and out the mouth, a practice reminiscent of his days spent at the dojo… It did little to help.

The rattling of ceramic announcing Isshin’s arrival, Ichigo watched as the man took the time to place the tray on the coffee table, pouring a measured amount of steaming tea into each cup, “You’ll want to drink it before it gets cold. It’s chamomile so it should help a little. Also here...” At this, his father handed him a large drinking glass, cold water with ice clinking in the cup. “To wash out your mouth.”

Ichigo didn’t reply, merely frowning down at the small cups before giving his father a serious stare, done with all this waiting around. Karin pushed into his side a little more. Sighing, he took the proffered glass and took several small drinks, secretly glad to ease some of the rasping itch in his throat.

He wanted answers though.

Letting out a breath, Isshin ran a hand through his hair. “You said yesterday that you remember leaving the school?” he questioned and with Ichigo’s confirming nod he furrowed his brow, and gave his son a hard look, “That would be incorrect, you’re remembering five days ago. You’ve been sleeping for nearly a week now Ichigo.”

Flinching and nearly allowing the glass to slip from his fingers, Ichigo sunk back further into the couch his mind whirling with questions.  _ F-five days?! A whole week? What the hell? _ His eyes darted about, unfocused gaze landing on nothing while his thoughts raced.  _ Why was I out that long? I don’t feel sick… The only thing that stands out is I can’t remember coming home— _ He put a halt to his rampaging thoughts, his panic attack from before making him reevaluate how to look at the situation. Needing, with every fiber of his being to distance his emotions from this. His attention snapped up to pin his father with a harsh look, “I don’t… remember making it home. How can I not remember something like that?” Ichigo demanded, his voice hard.

Isshin nodded emphatically, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. “Sometimes, the mind blocks out events… to protect itself.” At Ichigo’s stormy expression, he raised a calming palm. “It will take some time to come back, and maybe even then you won’t remember fully… Karin found you on the front doorstep, unconscious.”

Immediately, Ichigo pulled back his sleeves, frantically searching for any pinpricks or marks along the inner veins of his arms and tried to recall any instant when he wasn’t constantly watching his food or drink. It was the only thing he could think of, the one thing he knew that could cause an event like this. If this was wrong— then it surely it could only be something far more serious.

Distancing himself was going to be harder than he initially imagined.

“Ichigo, I gave you a toxicology exam when you got in, you’re clean.” His dad murmured, placing a hand over his own as he attempted to raise his shirt. “I’m a doctor damn it, I would know if someone drugged you,” he chastised and then promptly amended his tone when he saw his son’s face fall, “Physically, you are in prime condition—nothing is wrong with you. You’re just confused and need something to take your mind off it.”

“That’s—!” Ichigo started, jerking his chin up to stare at his father in shock, “How can you— Just forget about it? Is that what you’re asking?!” He shouted, appalled at the very suggestion.

“No!” Isshin barked sternly, astonishing the teen with the authority behind the tone. He’d never seen his father act like this, or at least, hadn’t seen it for a very long time. Not since his mother— and there he cut off his train of thought, the subject far too painful to relive. “I’m not asking you to forget,” his father continued softly, removing his hand and picking up one of the tea cups on the table, the contents probably suitably cooled by now, “I’m telling you to rest. We’re all here for you Ichigo, you won’t have to deal with this alone.”

Lips tightening, Ichigo hung his head, conscious of the way his sisters clung to him even tighter after that statement. “What if it’s something physical? Something that can’t be seen on the surface?” he questioned, his throat clenching around the words.

“Then, we’ll get it taken care of.” Isshin replied, smiling crookedly in reassurance, “It’s what family is for isn’t it?”

Letting out a scoff, Ichigo smiled, a warm sensation starting in the center of his chest and feeling, if only minorly, a little bit embarrassed. He’ll admit, his family wasn’t the most conventional and they were all a bit weird in their own ways, but they cared. And sometimes it was nice to be reminded of that.

Though he would have gladly forgone the heart attack inducing events that made it happen.

_ And isn’t that just pathetic. _

“So…” Isshin began, taking a long sip of his tea before placing it down on a side table,  _ away _ from the rest of the set up in the middle of the room, a suspicious gesture. Ichigo felt himself tense as the man suddenly— and rather predictably— leapt forward, “So what’s this I hear about seeing someone in the nurse’s office?! Did you meet a cute  _ girl _ ?!!”

A resounding smack echoed around the room, making the girls cry out in surprise as Ichigo planted his foot in his father’s face, “I’m having an emotional moment and this the question you ask?! What happened to consoling your son?!”

“Ichigo!” Yuzu exclaimed, aghast at the abrupt turn in mood, worriedly grabbing at any spilt cups to mitigate further damage.

“Ah,” The man’s goofy persona was back in full force, the strength of the kick sending him back into the opposite chair and leaving him to clutch his bleeding nose, “Truly you are the fruit of my loins, besting your own father like this… I’m so proud!”

“Goat Face, you dumbass!” Karin shouted, grabbing onto Ichigo’s shirt in a weak attempt to pull him back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ichigo is—!”

“Karin…” Ichigo murmured, placing his palm on the top of her head, stopping her tirade in its tracks. She looked up at him with worry in her eyes and started in surprise at the wistful smile on his lips, his eyebrows quirking in good humor, “It’s alright. I’m feeling much better now.” He grinned, ruffling her hair a bit to make her squawk and struggle to push his hand off. “Thanks, you all helped me a lot.”

“Ichi…” voiced Karin, a tone of quiet concern still present, “Are you sure?”

Snorting, Ichigo pulled her into a one armed hug before she could escape and snagged Yuzu from the side, “Of course!” He happily crowed, a lie if there ever was one. His gut still twisted with nausea and his head hurt from trying to recall everything, but he couldn’t make his sisters worry about him anymore. Couldn’t even stomach the idea. Wasn’t he supposed to be the eldest sibling and thus supposed to take care of them? Through thick and thin? “Where would I be if I didn’t have both of your support?” Ichigo continued, forcing a squeal out of both of them when he squeezed just a little too tight and lifted them up.

On cue, their father joined in on the group hug, screaming something about, “Daddy’s here for you too!” And happily trying to lift all three of them only to realize that collectively they all weighed far too much and toppled over from their combined load, crashing into the coffee table and subsequently flattening it, dribbling the already spilt tea onto the floor.

An argument ensued, Yuzu fluttering around to make sure everyone was okay while Karin busied herself with picking up the shattered pieces of the table.

Really, with his family, an event like this could only to be expected. But it was only a temporary bandage...

The day a bust, the Kurosaki’s instead decided to spend the rest of the time watching TV and basking in each other’s presence. 

The broken coffee table had been launched into the nearest dumpster as a casualty of war, as there was no repairing the damage. 

Meanwhile, Karin performed a pretty decent impression of a lazing cat by draping her legs over Ichigo’s lap while she leaned on the couch’s arm, during which Yuzu sat smushed between their doting father and her brother’s armpit like the world’s cutest walnut. It wasn’t the quietest evening, but it still remained pleasant in it’s own way.

It at the very least kept his mind off of unpleasant scenarios. 

However, once night fell, that all went out the window, because one thing stood out that made the hairs on his arms stand on end, creeping along the surface of his skin.

He couldn’t sleep.

Never in his life did Ichigo have a problem falling asleep, he would even hazard to say that he could probably pass out anywhere if given the opportunity. Tonight though, something niggled in the back of his mind and he tried identifying the reason. His back ramrod straight as he sat on the edge of his mattress watching the moon’s shadows play over the curves on his knuckles.

_ Something happened out there… _ he mused, tilting his hand steadily back and forth, observing the way the darkness rolled like ink to escape the pale light. The sight gave him a feeling akin to unease, so he stopped and flopped back onto his pillow, turning to observe the quarter moon peeking behind the clouds. Reaching up, Ichigo rose his palm up to meet the moon’s gaze, blocking its light from his eyes.

He clenched his fist.

_ And I’m going to find out what it was, _ he vowed, his arm falling to rest on his forehead as his brain analyzed the possibilities. The feeling or knowledge that he’d been taken advantage of still not sitting well with him, and it never would. How he felt this, he couldn’t be sure. But a certainty remained. Watching without really seeing, Ichigo surveyed the stars twinkling faintly overhead, nearly blotted out by the brightness of the city lights in the distance. 

Events played through his mind like a broken record: Walking home. Cold. Dark. Abject terror. Then nothing. Rinse and repeat.

Exhaling heavily, Ichigo rolled over to face his closet, the moonlight casting the sliding doors in a white glow. It was useless, he still couldn’t remember. No matter how many times he ran the sequence in his head, no new information revealed itself. Pointless.

Until his mind finally decided that the memories were relevant,  _ if _ it decided, then he really did have no choice but to wait it out.

_ Chad. Mizuiro. Keigo. Tatsuki...  _ Ichigo listed out the names of his friends, imagining their faces and what they would ask him once he returned to school,  _ Hope they didn’t worry too much— Tatsuki might… she can be a bit over the top sometimes. And Chad, he won’t be obvious, but I know he’d be concerned. _

Frowning, he rubbed at his eye as a yawn overtook him, glaring over at the clock to see that it read, 1:36 AM. Groaning he pinched the bridge of his nose and grumbled, “Gah, just stop thinking dumbass and go to sleep, got a crapload of homework to do…” Sighing again, he scrubbed at his face with his hands, recalling the pile of remedial work that his sister’s had gathered from his homeroom teacher. He’d only been out a week and already he was behind everyone else in his studies!

The next week was going to suck, he could feel it.

Willing with all his power to force his brain to shut down and get some shut eye in preparation for the intense studying he’d be doing the next day, Ichigo allowed his eyes to swim into a daze. His stare lazily followed the dips of his shadow along the floor, the moonlight dropping its ethereal light behind him. The paneling was so bright it almost hurt to keep focus, so Ichigo averted his eyes to take in the easier sight of the darkness around the room. Somewhere he could hear a clock ticking, the metronome filling the silence with its persistent rhythm.

Tick.

Tock.

_ Tick. _

_ Tock. _

_ The fog rose through the floorboards, stifling in its silence and deafening the roars of yesterday. Like murky fingers they reached up to entreat the heavens, to claw the sky and bring down the paling moon, crushing the light into dusk. He watched as the limbs clambered over the windowsill, their arms blocking out the moonlight, the penumbra a somber mirror of the goings on at his back. _

_ Chilled with a taste of winter, his window opened, allowing the outside in. A bitter flavor on his tongue, the taste of exhaust and pollution, a common complaint of city air and the quality of life. The curtains on either side fluttered in the bleak wind, sucking out the heat of his room and the safety of his home. _

_ It was there. _

_ But what it was, could not be seen. _

_ He was paralyzed in its grasp. _

_ Red. _

xXx

Ichigo gasped as he awoke, throwing aside his blankets in a flurry, his eyes wild. Cheery sunlight beamed through his window and reflected off disturbed motes of dust, causing Ichigo to blink against the brightness, a hard contrast to the very vivid dream. Or nightmare, for nothing else could explain what that was. Which means he fell asleep at some point. Bemused he cast his eyes about, still feeling the effects of his slumber dragging at his psyche. 

Everything  _ seemed _ normal.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention however and he snapped his head to look out the window, catching a glimpse of his father taking swift strides down the street, wrapped up in a jacket to ward off some of the morning chill. The expression on the man’s face was far from pleasant and the teen was momentarily shocked at the change.  _ He looks pissed… _ thought Ichigo wonderingly, watching in silent awe until his father briskly disappeared beyond his window’s viewing range.

_ Wonder where he’s going in such a hurry? _ Ichigo pondered, scratching his scalp, before shrugging and getting out of bed. He was awake now and after that night terror there would be no way he could fall asleep again soon, so there really was no point to keep lazing around.

Besides, if he dwelled on this problem any further he was gonna go mad.

Changing into some appropriate day clothes, Ichigo meandered his way downstairs, yawning all the while. Silently cursing his sudden insomnia and profusely hoping it didn’t become a theme, he slouched into the nearest chair, giving Karin a grumbled greeting. She looked a little better this morning, though the dark circles under her eyes gave away that she probably slept about as well as he did.

She gave him an assessing look, her dour gaze probably a decent reflection of his own, “You look like crap.” Came the oh-so endearing statement, truly he was well loved. Yuzu greeted him much more politely with cheer from her place at the stove which he happily returned. How the two were twins always seemed to baffle him.

Scoffing, he placed his elbow on the table to lean on his hand, “You’re no ray of sunshine either.” Ichigo griped good-naturedly, fiddling around with the chopsticks Yuzu placed upon his placemat. “Dad too, now that I think about it. Saw him march off down the street with a pissed off look. Know what happened?”

The significant glance that passed between his siblings did not go unnoticed. Nor did their confusion. He could only blink when Yuzu turned to him with a frown, “He was like his usual self this morning when we saw him...”

“Yeah, he mentioned something about going to a boring medical meeting or something,” added Karin, furrowing her brows as she rubbed her chin in thought. “Goat Face didn’t  _ seem _ angry, in fact, he looked as cheerful as ever.”

Scratching his head, Ichigo quirked his brows, “A medical meeting? With who?” As far as he knew, his dad didn’t  _ have  _ conferences… or at least not often. But then again he wasn’t in the clinic all the time like his sisters were, as they got out of class earlier and their school was just closer in general. They got to help out a lot more than he did.

Karin shrugged, unconcerned. “Who knows? But it’s probably at the hospital, it’s the only place he goes when he has a seminar, since we take some of their overstocked patients it only makes sense that he brings them occasional reports.”

_ The hospital? _ the teen thought doubtfully, recalling the eastern route the old man had been heading when he saw him earlier,  _ Isn’t that North? _

“By the way don’t you have homework?” Karin snarked through his musing, making his scowl deepen.

“Don’t remind me…” Griped the teen, giving the chopsticks in his hand a dark glower, as if they’d personally insulted him.

So far, they’d been doing well in avoiding the elephant in the room.

“Ichi-nii…” Yuzu hesitantly uttered, placing a plate of eggs and toast on the table before Karin, her other hand busy twirling a lock her short hair. She appeared uncertain, thus giving him an inkling as to what was on her mind, “How are you feeling?”

_ Shit. _

“Fine.” He said aloud, lying through his teeth with a cheery smile.  _ Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. _

_ Dark.  _

And as one would expect when told  _ not _ to think about something, his brain decided to do the polar opposite. Obsessing over the details ad nauseum.

_ It was dark. The streets empty. _

_ I should have known... _

_ The light flickering… _

_ Red. _

His thoughts derailed, recalling the dream from this morning. That minute detail hadn’t been there before and even then his dream wasn’t at all similar to his memory. Too exaggerated with auxiliary detail to be anything but a night terror. But he was certain that  _ color  _ had not been in his recollection of events previously...

Another piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.

“-nii… Ichi-nii!” The desperate call snapped him out of his stupor, refocusing his attention on Yuzu’s troubled face. She was leaning toward him, her hands poised on the table, with her expression screwed into apprehension. Karin was still in her seat, but was gazing at him in alarm, a half a piece of toast dangling from one of her limp hands as if preparing to drop it at a moment's notice.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the daze, the teen suddenly felt very tired.  _ How long were they calling my name? _ Ichigo considered, running a hand down his mug in exasperation, feeling like he was never going to escape this… pity.

He couldn’t stand being pitied.

Mind made up, the teen scooted back his chair from the table and stood, fishing his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I’ve got a lot of homework, so I’ll be up in my room,” he announced without inflection, already meandering his way to the stairs despite the sounds of Yuzu’s protests and Karin scolding her. By the time he made it to the landing, he could faintly hear Yuzu crying below, making his heart clench.

Closing his bedroom door with a soft click, Ichigo slouched against the wall and slid his way down to the floor, his head in his hands.


End file.
